


Sassafrass

by FoxLight



Series: The Strawberry Shortcake Chronicles [12]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Drunken Squabbles, F/M, Gen, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 14:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxLight/pseuds/FoxLight
Summary: After Barbara is freed from the binding spell, NotEnrique brings Strickler a bottle. It's not baby formula. Sequel (of sorts) to "Bossman."





	Sassafrass

**Author's Note:**

> A quick drabble to get me back on the horse, so to speak. Been away for a while. Enjoy!

Walter Strickler blinked through the thin, blue film of twilight, gaze roaming over the expanse of milky skin before him. Barbara had fallen asleep on her stomach, facing away from him, though one hand was still stretched toward his face, as though she’d thought about cradling it in the night. 

The breath that left his lungs had grown short with admiration. He lifted his face from the burrow he’d made of his pillow and scooted closer to her sleeping form. Amidst her restless tossing, the sheets had fallen to her hips, leaving her unclothed torso covered in goosebumps. In fascination, he reached a hand (a warm, human hand) out to smooth them, and heard her small, unconscious sigh in response.

A flush crept across his chest, and the strings of his heart ran taught with the notion that she found an honest comfort in him – he the monster that had crawled out from under her mattress’ frame to disguise itself as her bedfellow.

She shifted in her slumber, as though inviting his touch; it prompted his soft smile.

There was no shame in this, he thought. He didn’t try to fight it, or deny it anymore. Neither Angor, nor the Order, nor even the Lady herself could convince him that this was wrong; and besides, they still believed it to be a ruse, seeing only a push toward theatrical realism in his blatancy. ‘They’ excluding Angor, of course, who knew the truth now, but could do nothing about it. 

Everything was under control. _Mundus vult decipi_ , he told himself. The world wanted to be deceived, and so he deceived it. No harm could come as long as everyone stayed in place.

Eyes flashing an indulgent yellow, he bent low to place a series of along, wet kisses along the ridge of her spine.

She turned beneath the pillars of his arms, blinking up at him with hazy blues, her pale features framed within a bright red sea.

“Good morning, love,” she said in a voice that imitated his own. 

He chuckled, “Beat me to it,” he bent down to kiss her, lips sloppy in their art. “Wouldn’t be the first thing you beat me to within the last few hours.”

“Mhmmhmmhmm,” her giggles melted into his mouth as he claimed her lips. 

Their touches were soft, and then not-so-soft as the tides of adoration rolled in. 

“I want you, Walt.” She said to ears that were somewhere beneath the sheets, her body rolling ardor.

“You have me.” He said, popping out to brush his lips against her breastbone. “You’ll have me always.”

 _A clanking sound came to his awareness._ His hands ghosted along her sides, casusing a cacophony of noises from Barbara that he was content to revel in for the rest of his life. The scent of sweet cream and peonies filled his nostrils as he gently bit along her shoulder. 

_”Oi, wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey, time to rise and shakey, shakey. You’ve got company.”_

Her skin was soft, pliant, wonderful, and quaking as much as his own. Devil though he was, he wanted nothing more than to please her, to give her everything. 

_”Hey!” The metallic sound grew louder._

Green eyes opened to see _something_ scurrying along the tops of his cage, causing both the chains and his mind to jangle to life.

“What are you doing here, imp?” Walter sat up as he blinked away his memories. “Come to see the show? Teacher or traitor? Five cents to sneak a peek.”

NotEnrique ignored him, slipping through the bars to pump his fist in the air. “Ya did it boss. Ya finally chose a side. ”

“Oh, yes, let’s celebrate.” He slumped against the iron bars. “Bring me a cake, will you? I feel so wonderful inside.” He tightened his arms around his chest and slumped further into the side of the cage.

“Brought something a little better than cake” He fished out a silver flask. “Been hidin’ this in me diaper.”

Strickler eyed him in disgust.

“Come on, it’s clean.” A green paw waggled the vessel.

“Oh, what do I care?” He took the thing, twisted the cap, and downed a few hearty swigs. “Hmm,” he wiped his lips with one sleeve. “Tequila.”

“Best I could find in me da’s—I mean, Clare’s dad’s cabinet. Can’t get me with no baby lock.”

“He has good taste,” he said after taking another swig, “a cheap batch favors the quality of gasoline. This is of a sweeter variety. Fruity notes, a hint of vanilla on the nose. ”

“I wouldn’t know,” NotEnrique shrugged. “Gasoline tastes good to me.”

“If you’re going to be a human, you’ll have to start eating like one.” Strickler admonished, though with no venom.

“Won’t be the case for either of us if he rescues those babies.”

“Yes,” the teacher said, running a heavy hand through his unkempt hair, “yes, you’re right.” His voice was horse, as though it had been hollowed out.

“You got some sort of plan?”

Strickler shook his head, drank again. “There were never any plans. Not with _her_ “

“Are you Talkin’ about the Lake lady or the Lady lady?”

The elder changeling balled his fists around his head, legs curling in like a spider’s.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything.” 

NotEnrique crawled around the ouside of the cage, trying to eye Strickler from a better angle. 

“Stop shaking it, will you?” He groaned. “The world’s already crumbling beneath my feet. I don’t need you to heighten the effect.”

“Sorry,” the imp said as he squeezed between the bars and slid onto the metal floor. The cage swung, and then steadied. “Hey,” NotEnrique chirped after too long a pause, in which Strickler seemed content to forever clutch at his own ribcage. “Chin up now. Maybe it’s like with that Sassafrass guy. You’ve been bearing against that rock of yours for so long that you don’t know what it’s like to live without its weight pushin’ you deep into the ground. You should feel lighter without all 'a that burden.”

”Not light enough,” he said with memory lapping in the waves of his voice. “Never enough. Never again; neither in fervor nor in firmament.”

“What?”

“I had such height.” he dawdled on, “back when youth was in my eye and Gunmar was barely a bull. I never thought he’d take them. So many years lost in trying to prove my worth without them. But it was enough not to touch the sky, when I could see it in her eyes. Ah, those empyrean vaults, strong enough to toss my very life from beneath me. ”

“You’re speakin’ in riddles, mate.”

“Check,” he laughed, “Check-mate. Yes, the game is up. I’ve lost my queen.” Strickler took another swig from the flask.

“Gimme that,” the youngling reached to take the flask away, but Strickler tucked it into his body. He took another draught, and then clutched it beneath his arm in a childish display. “No it’s _my_ party. Can’t take the cake from the birthday boy; I’ll drink myself sick if I like.”

“Well, at least let me have a dram.” the imp held out his claws in expectancy. “I brought it to share.”

“No, it’s mine.” He sneered. “You can go to Grog-house as you please. I’m the one chained up like a canary.”

“Give it, it’s me da’s.” He said, crawling up the teachers sleeve until he could squirm into his armpit.

“Not for long.” Strickler jumped up, flinging himself to the opposite end of the cage and holding the flask high. “You’ll lose him, in the end. Even if the children stay ensnared, and you never lose your cover, he'll grow old. We lose them all.”

“You’re a mean old grump.” NotEnrique jumped after him, crawling to the ceiling before reaching down. “Ida been better off leavin’ you alone,”

"Yes." Strickler moved the flask out of range, watching NotEnrique dance. “Why _did_ you come, hmm?”

“I’m startin’ to wonder who really needs to be wearing the diaper here.”

“Desperation breeds a villain, doesn’t it?” he snickered and swigged. NotEnrique jumped for the flask again.

“Hey! What’s going on up there?” A rocky voice shouted from below.

“Err,” just roughin’ him up a bit; you guys did a number on him earlier, but I wanted my piece of the pie.

“We didn’t rough him up today, just put some Hurgswort in his water.”

“Oh, well, I guess that you explain why he’s actin’ like such a trite little lush.” NotEnrique snarled and looked Strickler in the eyes. 

Walter growled and crawled to the edge of his cage to glare at the guard below. “When I undoubtedly vomit later, I _will_ aim straight between your horns, and even if I miss, you’re going to have to sit there and smell it in this humid hollow until your shift ends. Didn’t think that one through with your friends did you?”

“Uhh,” the troll scratched his head.

“Not very good chums, are they?” Strickler jeered, “it appears I am not the only victim of your little prank.”

“Oi, you still got my stuff!” NotEnrique shouted, and launched himself toward Strickler’s head.. 

A flash of green snapped within the cage, and Strickler looked to the changeling with slatted yellow eyes. He dove, but not in time to avoid NotEnrique’s grasp onto one of his horns. Small in stature, the younger one swung himself from one horn to the other as though on a set of monkey-bars. Strickler growled as his neck snapped back and forth. Launching himself toward the wall of the cage, he knocked his own horns against the bars, until he heard the little imp shout in pain. 

“Not fair,” NoteErique growled, and then swung his foot into Strickler’s eyes. Walter stepped back, a clawed hand rising to shield his face before he stumbled on his own cloak, twisted, and then fell in a heap onto the ground.

“Ugh,” he groaned, losing the will to continue. He felt the young one jump onto his back, and then to the ground, where he pried the bottle from his hands.. Strickler held his grip at first, but then let go. “

“You wanna know why I came?” NotEnrique said as the elder rose to his knees. 

“Not really;” Walter grumbled as he rubbed at his aching horns, “I only care that you go away.”

“Cause you’re the only family I got left ya crusty blister.” NotEnrique continued. “You were right about what lasts. I got no regrets sidin’ with the Trollhunter and his lot, but ain’t none of ‘em – troll or human-- understand what it’s like to be a changelin’. Ya get spit on left and right. When I’m a fleshbag, I can at least _pretend_ that the humans like me for who I am, but if the Lake kid rescues my familiar, I won’t have nothin’ left.” 

“If you are about to ask what I think you are, then no, it’s _not_ going to happen.” He snorted. 

“Eh? Where am I supposed to go, man? You’re the only one like me! If you plan on blowin’ this joint once you get out, I want to come with ya!”

“Absolutely not, whelp.”

“But I’m just doin’ what you said! I’m stickin’ to me kin! You said yerself that we were brothers for what we were. That has to count for somethin’! ‘Specially now that it’s just us two chickens fightin’ against Janus.”

“You’d get me killed, you blustering thing!!”

“Why say all that stuff about allegiance and brotherhood if you’re not gonna back it up.” NotEnrique growled, face growing ugly with distain. “What’s the point in pretending to care about people, when the only one you’re really lookin’ out for is yerself? Maybe it’s a good thing the Doc doesn’t remember you. She don’t deserve that kinda nonsense.”

At first, the elder changeling felt enraged, breath sucking in as s eyes flared at his diminutive companion. The little cretin! He knew nothing of love, nothing of pain, nothing of this long and violent life living between two worlds. He hadn’t even suffered a full year as a human. What gave him the right to even imagine what it was like to live centuries like one?

 _”What are you, Walt?”_ The memory came without warning.

_”Someone who can help your son.”_

He closed his eyes against Barbara’s voice.

_"Hey, thanks for the advice.” Young Atlas ducked away from him as he headed toward his office door. “I like talking to you.”_

_“Always.”_

_It was the last time Strickler would regard him as ‘merely a pupil.’_

_“You’ll have me always.”_ The dream came back. He shook it free of his head.

 _What am I? I’m something that hurt you._ He corrected himself. _Something that has done you all a great wrong._

__Against the cage, he withered, looking much like a spent rag._ _

__A measure of time passed while NotEnrique continued to glare, resentment glowing in his beady yellow eyes._ _

__“I do care,” Walter rumbled out with a voice like gravel. “I do.” He whispered, as though trying to convince himself._ _

__Another pause amid the damp, dripping walls; he heard NotEnrique shift against the metal cage. A headache formed between his horns as the alcohol drifted away, leaving as quickly as it came._ _

__“Well, mate, your actions speak otherwise.”_ _

__“Do they?” He spoke beneath his breath. “You are welcome in Trollmarket.” The elder changeling looked up, yellow eyes void of any virulence “I am not. It is safer for you here. I know the Janus Order, I created it; successfully concealing one’s self from the eyes of the entire organization is task that flirts with the impossible. Once I leave this place they will hunt me like a hart. Death lingers within every breath along my next journey. I must erase myself from existence -- cut off _all_ contact. I will take no one else.”_ _

__NotEnrique’s gaze softened. “If it’s so dangerous, then stay here. We can probably convince them that you can help.”_ _

__“No,” Walter shook his head, one horn dinged against the cage. “If I stay, the Order could, and likely _will_ use any one of you as bait to get to me. It is safer if I go.”_ _

__“Maybe you got a point, but what if Gunmar comes back? You know that Lake kid’s crazy. If he goes for the babies, there a chance the big chief will break out of exile. How will any of us be safer then? You overheard what the knome said. The doc’s top on his list.”_ _

__“Nomura is still alive, though Gunmar has her. If he escapes, find her. If she is dead, find her body. She has an Anamnesis stone; I have one as well– they are a linked set of three. The third is hidden, of course, in a location I shall not disclose to you. Within these stones lie encrypted numerical messages that will lead you to either mu current location, or to the next best source. The numerals you will find correspond to letters within words, within paragraphs, within pages, within a book on Pharaohs that was formerly located in my office. The words you get will not make sense, save for one clue. If possible, use Claire to further cipher the text -- she was particularly keen during my lesson on cryptology, and was the only student to ever crack the code I gave as a performance exercise. If Claire is not an option, try any former student of mine. As for the book on Pharaohs, it now lies on a shelf at the Lake residence. I put it there some time ago, in case my office was compromised. You will know which one it is. The cover has illuminated text along its spine.”_ _

__NotEnrique blinked, not expecting the barrage of information. Then, his eyes narrowed. “’Ey, why’s it got to be one of your students? What makes them runts any better than the rest?”_ _

__The changeling lifted a stony brow. “Only someone who has taken my class could possibly know what the clue refers to.”_ _

__“This is an awful lot of trouble. Why not just tell me outright what the heck is in there?” the imp cocked his head._ _

__“Nomura has been trained against certain methods of torture.” He said with a brow. “You have not. That is why I can only clue you in on the answer. Would that I _could_ give you more.” He paused, and looked up toward the ceiling of the cavern. “Gunmar’s freedom is a perilous thought indeed.” He continued. “You will want me in that fight. I was his right hand for centuries; I know his pattern of mind. Please, if Nomura is indisposed, see to it that I am found. ”_ _

__“Alright then,” NotEnrique shrugged. “Sure, you’ve got it bossman.”_ _

__Walter smiled as he shifted back into his human form. “You don’t have to call me that. We are as good as equals, now.”_ _

__“Well what do ya want me to call ya?”_ _

__He adjusted his jacket. “Strickler will do just fine.”_ _

__“What about Sassafrass?”_ _

__“It’s Sisyphus, and no.” He harrumphed, folding his arms in distain. The expression lasted only a moment, before his eyes bulged and he clutched a hand to his stomach.”_ _

__NotEnrique backed away. “Uh oh.”_ _

__Strickler gagged as he swallowed down the first round of bile. “Damn those guards.”_ _

__“Welp, this won’t be pretty.”_ _

__“You’d better get on,” the older changeling said in a strained voice. “I’ll be rolling in sick for the next four hours.”_ _

__“You don’t have to tell _me_ twice.” NotEnrique skittered up and through a pair of bars, pausing to hang onto the outside of the cage. “Err, I didn’t really mean what I said about the doc, y’know. It was just the heat of the moment.”_ _

__“Yes you did.” Haggard, green eyes met yellow. “And you were right. She doesn’t deserve my nonsense. Watch out for youself, cretin. And look after the Lakes -- they will need all of the help that they can muster.”_ _

__Not Enrique jumped from the cage to catch onto a nearby chin. He slid down it like a rope._ _

__“Same to you, Señor Sassafrass.” the imp’s voice shouted from halfway down._ _

__Before Walter could form a reprimand, bile found him. Void of voice, his retches echoed throughout the chamber, followed by a series of thick, encompassing splashes. He leaned against the cage, making a friend of Misery, his only company for hours to come._ _


End file.
